


we'll hold you up (up to the sky)

by carmillascupcakes



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Aimee is a smol bean and must be protected, Anxiety, F/F, Panic Attacks, Possible Aimee/Maeve pairing in the future, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, The girls help her through some things, she deserves the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22442641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmillascupcakes/pseuds/carmillascupcakes
Summary: Aimee panics, and the girls are left to deal with the aftermath.
Relationships: Aimee Gibbs/Maeve Wiley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 122





	we'll hold you up (up to the sky)

**Author's Note:**

> After S2E7, I immediately went online to try and find works that focused on Aimee's sexual assault and how she dealt with it. There wasn't any, so this is me trying to fill in that gap. I'm assuming that if we have a third season Aimee's trauma will probably be explored in more detail, but I'm impatient haha. 
> 
> Note: Please don't read this if you haven't finished Season 2 of Sex Education and/or are sensitive to topics such as panic attacks, sexual assault, trauma, and PTSD. 
> 
> This is unedited, and also my first published work on Ao3. Feel free to let me know if you find any mistakes. Enjoy!

Maeve and Ola have been arguing for what seems like forever, and already Aimee is beginning to spiral.

She can feel his harsh pants in her ear, along with the hot friction of skin against denim. Her fingers move to touch the spot almost unconsciously, grasping, looking for something, anything.

The argument still hasn’t ceased, in fact, it’s just getting started. Voices are getting louder, more overwhelming and all of a sudden-

“Stop fighting over a stupid boy!”

Time stops. Maeve and Ola and the others have turned to look at her, and Aimee’s chest is pounding so hard she wouldn’t be surprised if someone had told her she was having a heart attack right then and there.

Maeve is the first to speak. Her soft tone indicates she’s concerned, a stark contrast to the fierceness in her voice that was present less than thirty seconds ago.

“Aimes, why are you crying?” The brunette asks, and right then Aimee feels a big fat droplet roll down her right cheek. Her eyes are puffy, and all she wants right now is to go home.

She takes a shaky breath, in and out. God, why is this happening? Why here? Why now?

“Aimee?”

“Because I can’t get on the bus.” Aimee gets out, and from there her throat closes, causing panic to bubble in her lungs. She realizes she’s hyperventilating now, and she tries to curb it by holding her breath but to no avail. Her eyes are closed tight, trying to clear the image of the man on the bus from her head.

_Skin against denim. Headphones. Headphones. Panting, claustrophobic. Feel claustrophobic. Can’t do this, need to get out. Denim. Skin, skin._

A hand touches her knee and she flinches, her back hitting the couch. “No, please don’t. Please don’t.”

“Shit, okay.” She hears Maeve say, and Aimee is immediately overwhelmed with guilt because her friend is only trying to help.

Nothing for a moment, then some incomprehensible whispers. After what seems like forever, she feels someone (Ola, maybe) sit down next to her. She tenses a bit.

“You’re going to be alright, Aimee.” Ola says. Her voice is steady, grounding. “But I need you to do something for me. Can you name five things you can see?”

_Five things._

Aimee opens her eyes and immediately regrets it. Bright light floods her vision and she curls further into herself, her eyesight doing its best to adjust.

_Too much light, too much too bright._

She groans, directing her gaze downwards. “Can’t.” _Fuck._

“You can.” Ola encourages. “You’ve got this.” A pause, then “What do you see, Aimee? Tell me what you see.”

Aimee leans back a bit, her cheeks flushed. There’s a magazine on the coffee table right in front of her, and she focuses on that. “A-a magazine.”

“Good.” Maeve says. “What else?”

Aimee’s eyes scan the room. She’s still breathing heavily, her eyes tired. “Erm...A pencil. T-the stairs. A plant. A chair.”

“Awesome, Aimee.” Ola praises. “Now, four things you can touch.”

“The couch. The floor. My jeans, oh shit my jeans...” Aimee spirals again. She’s lost control, and she’s worried she won’t be able to find her way back, until she feels a warm, comforting grip on her hands that pulls her back to earth. Maeve.

“Maeve’s hands.” She finishes. “I can feel Maeve’s hands.”

Maeve smiles at her, and Ola nods. “Three things you can hear.”

“The buzz of a heater. A clock.” Lily’s messing around with a pencil and a pad nearby. “Lily’s drawing.”

“Almost there. Two things you can smell.”

_Oh, god._

“Crisps. Old books.”

Olivia stifles a laugh at the later statement, and straightens when Viv glares at her. The two of them turn back and watch, curious but mostly concerned.

“One thing you can taste, Aimee.”

The blonde swallows, relieved.

“Salt.”

Right then, Aimee finds that her chest has finally loosened its grip on her lungs, and she inhales shakily. Tears that can no longer be contained roll down her cheeks in waves and she sobs, deep agony-filled sobs that are so strong they make Lily look up from her sketchbook and Maeve tear up.

“I’m sorry,” Aimee gets out. Maeve and Ola don’t say anything, only hug her from both sides. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Maeve says. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

The three of them sit there in silence, except for the casual sniffle as Aimee continues to cry. Right now though, sitting in this room, she doesn’t feel as alone. She’s not okay, but she’s not alone.

She’s not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Right now, I'm leaving this as a oneshot. If anyone wants though, I would be open to making it a twoshot or even a short series :)


End file.
